I made up a flask and was ready to go. Incidentally, this should have been Bovril but I was devastated to discover that my beloved had spotted the Bovril was out of date and disposed of it. I wrote “BOVRIL” on the shopping list and made myself some coffee.

My ride wasn’t particularly adventurous. I tested the ground conditions with an outward leg along the canalside to discover that the snow was wet enough and (mostly) deep enough to offer lots of grip, so with a smile I headed up past Hollingworth Lake onto the Pennine Bridle Way.

I wasn’t going fast. It was a good workout, with the snow slowing me down, rendering everything a virtual uphill. I just selected the granny ring, modulated my breathing so I wouldn’t die and plodded along. Bliss!

As I passed through a gate at the bottom of the hill past the M62 viaduct, a pleasant bloke on a shiny Specialized Camber 29er came alongside and we chatted for a few minutes about our bikes and estimated his timing for his return loop back to his car in Littleborough. If that was you, I hope you got back in time and I should’ve asked your name!

Turning uphill on the PBW towards Piethorne Reservoir I spotted a dark shape smack bang in the middle of the trail. A toad, maybe two-thirds the size of my fist, was crouched there slowly getting covered in the still-falling snow. I’m still not sure whether he was motionless because he perceived me coming along the trail (as he’d usually be camouflaged on that ground, but the obvious whiteness rendered that option a bit foolish) or whether he was, in fact, frozen to death and had already met his amphibious maker.

Cow Shed

Toadsickle

Pennine Bridle Way towards Piethorne

Snowy Strava – See Link Below

The trail down from the top of the hill towards Piethorne was exposed to the wind and had turned, over a few days of thawing and refreezing, into a cascading sheet of ice. Thankfully I was looking well ahead so steered onto the grass and opted to walk that section. My non-bruised hips will thank me for that decision!

More snow covered the trail a little lower down, so I climbed back aboard down to the reservoir and took the path alongside the water, until it joined the service road. From there I (carefully, with one foot dangling for support just in case the patches of ice along the road caught me by surprise) rolled down through Ogden into Newhey and back home.

Go Out, Folks

Staying at home in the warm would have been the easier option by far, but I’m so glad I ventured out. It was only a shade over 11 miles but by staying off the well-trodden path and keeping my eyes on the scenery, I was able to truly enjoy my snowy, slip-sliding shenanigens.

Like this:

January is passing me by. Before 2013 began, I resolved to write an inspirational “Start Of The Year” article, highlighting the wonderful things that cyclists had done in 2012. It was to be a work of gravitas, impact, empathy and skill. It was to draw on the wonderful successes of the London 2012 Olympics and it was going to apply some of those successes to the very real achievements of you, the readers and the 12×100 cyclists.

The landscape’s better with your tyres in it.

Take the road less travelled.

But I didn’t do it. It’s too late now. It’s mid-January and all the “New Year” blog posts have been done. Extremely well, in most cases.

So instead, you’re getting this. I’m hoping you’ll like it.

2012 In The 12×100

I’m based in the UK. The bulk of the 12×100 riders are, too. As a consequence we didn’t ride as many miles in 2012 as we did in 2011. The weather in the UK has been rubbish. Not biblical (unless you’re living in parts of Yorkshire or Dorset) but consistently rubbish: rainy, dark and cold. Not conducive to riding bikes.

With that said, the results have been amazing. A grand total of 63,640 miles cycled by the 34 people who logged miles in 2012. This is an average of 199 miles per month each for those cyclists who logged each month – most of those miles were for leisure. People having fun on bikes. This makes me smile. I hope it makes you smile, too.

A little surprisingly, the month with the highest miles logged was May, just before the rain began. The rain didn’t stop until late December.

If you’ve not taken part in the 12×100 Monthly Cycling Challenge yet, hit the link on the menu above. There’s a little form for you to fill in. Do it now. All you have to do is decide to ride your bike regularly. Try to ride 100 miles or more every month, but if you don’t do it, don’t worry too much.

I’ll share something with you which isn’t a secret – I don’t do the 100 most months. In 2012 I only actually cycled 624 miles. Not exactly a sparkling achievement. But it’s 624 miles more than the other 43 year-old bloke who spent all his evenings and free days watching TV and eating crisps.

My life will be longer as a result of those 624 miles. If I can do 100 miles a month in 2013, my life will even longer still.Will yours? I hope so. Ride your bikes. Tell ‘em Phill sent you 🙂

It’s Been A While

Since starting up the #12×100 Monthly Cycling Challenge I’ve tried to keep up a regular routine of cycling and it’s definitely helped. There are very few Tuesday nights I don’t get a few miles in, and every other weekend tends to have a good ride in it, too. Most of my cycling has been done alone though.

I do like riding my bike on my own. The chance to gather my thoughts out of the house, to take in the views, to enjoy the weather and listen to the sounds around me is a chance I like to take. More recently though it’s become obvious that although I know loads of other cyclists, I don’t often ride with any of them.

A close neighbour now rides me with me most Tuesdays on his old boneshaker. I’m hoping that his Missus will let him buy a better bike once he’s proved that he likes cycling and he’s going to keep it up! At first I struggled to adjust to the possibilities of conversation and sociable tea-and-biscuit consumption, but now I have to admit that it’s been good to have someone along.

There are always going to be good chances to ride alone and I’ll keep taking them. My lack of fitness and ambition are less obvious when I’m plodding along alone, lazily winching up the hills and flowing down them. My opportunities to take photos and capture the beautiful countryside within which I live are also more plentiful when I’m not encumbered by anyone else’s conflicting desire to cover more miles or keep their heart rate up.

But, when Chris suggested it was time for a social MTB ride, he was right.

A Bad Start

Going out for morning bike rides with diabetes is sometimes a pain in the bum. Managing my diabetes means that I tend to fuel up in pretty short bursts: you don’t really carbo-load when you know it’ll push your blood sugars high. The normal short-term, in-day rules apply but carbs usually have to be ingested to suit the exertion planned. Basically, that means: eat for today, not tomorrow.

We’d arranged to set off from mine at 10am. When I got up on the day of the ride my blood sugar was a bit higher than I’d have liked, so a big porridge breakfast wasn’t on the cards. I opted for a brioche whilst the lads turned up, pottered about and we all scratched our heads over Joby’s totally screwed rear brake. More about that later.

Powered only by instant coffee and a small helping of French bread with choccy bits, I led the lads down the canal towpath and up beside Clegg Hall towards Hollingworth Lake where we were meeting Adrian, our fourth rider and expert guide for the day. On getting there, we all joked about Joby’s knackered brake, suggesting either that he should descend first so as not to hit us in the back when he went OTB, or go last so that we weren’t inconvenienced when he bit the dust on the rocky Pennine descents Adrian had planned for us.

Brief hellos done, we set off towards the M62 viaduct where Rochdale and Littleborough are left behind and “the moors” are entered. Immediately, a massive gap opened up when the lads steamed up the first climb and I just let them go. Admittedly, they did climb very quickly (Strava told me later) but I was over a minute down on my usual time for an ascent which takes less than four to finish. I didn’t know that at the time: I just knew I was knackered!

I knew I’d be hanging off the back of the party all day. On the next climb, I got up without dabbing but at the top I was properly worn out. Only 5 miles or so ridden, all of which I’ve done many times alone, and I needed to get off the bike for a long rest. Thankfully a horse asked us to hang back (well, a woman riding a horse, but a horse asking would have been amazing) so I didn’t feel so guilty sat on the grass, sweating, not talking, with three blokes wondering whether I was going to bottle it and go home.

I’m glad I didn’t. It wasn’t a race.

Starting To Enjoy It

From there, we went along to Piethorne reservoir where the descent to the waterside and the views are amazing. Adrian got told off for startling two lady walkers but he had the good grace to feel a bit guilty, so that was ok. Poor Joby’s back brake had evidently spilled all of its hydraulic innards and was totally useless, so he followed gingerly down the descent, leaning off the back of his bike with the front brake on, somehow managing to avoid any face/rock interfaces.

The lads were beginning to talk of sausage butties by this time, so I played my trump card. Everyone needs to bring something to a social ride, and I’d brought my knowledge of where the best food was! One problem though, the climb from Piethorne reservoir to the Ram’s Head is a bit unpleasant. Rocky and steep, with hefty water bars and no clear view to the top – but remember, there was a pub at the top, so we got there.

How nice does THIS look?

You know you’re getting a posh burger when the chips are arranged in a little mesh chip pan which has clearly never been immersed in a fryer. Suffice to say that it tasted bloody marvellous. You should go to the Ram’s Head – it’s actually easier to get to from the road than the moors, for you roadie-whippet types.

Final Legs

Dropping back to Piethorne ressy from the pub was lots of fun for everyone except Joby on his single-braked steed, then we took the easy service road alongside Piethorne and Ogden reservoirs before a little portage back up towards the junction where I’d flaked out earlier. The burger and chips were working their magic and I felt much, much better with some proper carbs (and meat, and fat – all the important food groups) working through my system.

A final little climb and back down to t’Lake finished off a great couple of hours in the hills, so we said goodbye to Adrian and headed back to mine along the canal towpath.

Lessons Learned

Let’s make this clear: I had a really good day out. I loved the cycling, the company, the scenery and the food. This social ride was a brilliant idea. Thanks Chris for the suggestion and thanks Joby and Adrian for being there too.

I learned three things on this ride:1. As a diabetic, a poor feed means a poor ride.2. I should ride with other people more often.3. I’m even less fit than I thought I was.

My fitness isn’t a problem when I’m out alone. I’m fitter than most 42 year old men, but the trouble with grossed-up statistics is that they don’t reflect your individual circumstances. Most 42 year-old men spent last Sunday eating crisps and watching the Olympics – they weren’t trying to keep up with 3 fitter, younger men on mountain bikes in the foothills of the Pennines.

Being fitter than most 42 year-old men isn’t good enough. I need to get as fit as most men who regularly ride mountain bikes in the hills. I guess that means that I have a goal to achieve.

Like this:

… I’m going to ride a pushbike 60 miles to Blackpool on Sunday.

Stick with me on this one.

At this time of year, I watch the Tour de France like a lot of you. Usually just the highlights because I have a job to do, but in our house we never miss a day’s viewing. What inspires me more than anything else is how hardthese men are. No, Finabarr Saunders, I don’t mean like that: I mean that these guys are the fittest, most resilient, most inspiring athletes on the planet. In my opinion.

Except the drug-takers. They’re idiots. But let’s forget them for a moment.

Last year I watched this happen to Johnny Hoogerland:

Then only yesterday, I watched Tyler Farrar fall of his bike at speed when the guy he was leaning on moved. Andre Greipel, battering along like the bull of a man that he is, seemed to bunny-hop Farrar’s head to avoid him, then also managed to miraculously avoid Peter Sagan who was fired across his path by the snowballing crash. Greipel had both feet out of the pedals as he swerved through the growing carnage. Impressive, no?

No. What was most impressive was that Andre Greipel then clipped back into his bike, caught up his team-mates, accelerated to about 40mph up a hill and won that day’s stage. This is after riding around 130 miles.

Greipel is just one of 200 riders who plan to ride those 130 miles every day for 20 days, racing their hearts out with only 2 days off for a rest.

It’s easy for us to think about our favourtie riders but I thought I’d mention a couple who, for the UK fans at least, aren’t so much in the spotlight of adoration. Every one of those 200 guys is amazing (except the cheats).

What Does This Mean To Me?

I’ve booked to ride 60 miles from Manchester to Blackpool on Sunday, to raise much-needed funds for Springhill Hospice, where my Mum spent her last few days just before Christmas in 2009.

Around 3 weeks ago, I sprained my ankle playing football on a Wednesday evening after work. I wasn’t best pleased. Then this Wednesday, playing football again, I over-stretched my hip and pulled it somewhat. Walking down stairs is a fair bit hurty right now.

But on Sunday I’m riding to Blackpool anyway. I’m no athlete: I’ll take a couple of Ibuprofen and join a leisurely mass cycle with thousands of other people, into the forecast headwind and rain.

I’ll do it because a number of friends and colleagues, plus some wonderful strangers, have given money to the Hospice where my Mum ended her days and where countless others before and after her have been – and will be – given the dignity and care they deserve during a most important time.

I’ll just MTFU and get on with, because it’s the right thing to do. I’m not Johnny Hoogerland, I’m not Andre Greipel, I’m just a slightly paunchy little man riding a pushbike to Blackpool and helping a Hospice to do fantastic things.

Can You Help?

There’s a little blue widget up on the right of this blog which links to my JustGiving page. If you want to, you can offer a little support. I’ve already pushed the limit upwards twice, which has been fantastic.

If you can’t, that’s absolutely fine. Just get out on your bike, ignore the little hassles and the weather if you can, and enjoy it – then do something nice for someone else too. Then you will have made the world a better place.

Like this:

Remember Playing Out?

If this phrase makes you feel nostalgic, then shame on you. Reluctant as I am to criticise anybody, even you: shame on you.

Playing out is important. Failing to play out is one of the main reasons that the current generation is the fattest and most unhealthy one yet. It’s also the reason that the generation we’re bringing up now – our own kids – will be even fatter and more unhealthy than our own.

Getting outdoors and playing is a simple, fun and largely unseen way to:

burn calories

get further away from the fridge

have loads of fun

make friends

become fitter

avoid obesity

reduce the likelihood of shedloads of diseases in later life

Do you need any more convincing?

In my opinion, we adults often go out and ride out bikes to get ourselves fit. I’ve been quite vocal in the past that I prefer “playing out on bikes” to exercising any day of the week. That’s why I prefer a Mountain Bike, but that’s just me. Whatever you ride a bike, stop to think about the kids and please, please check out the links below.

So, What Do You Do?

More information about the Free Range Kids campaign can be found here, including some great ideas to get kids outdoors.

If you’re not in mainland UK, and I know a lot of you aren’t, do something in your own area. If you have an organisation doing similar things where you are, post a link in the comments below and lobby someone who can do something for your next generation.